“She is right though,” Mariella laughed, “when we were doing the scene yesterday and Tamsin kept corpsing, all I could think of was when we did the big shag scene in Praise and that shitty beard you had kept tickling my thigh.”
“You couldn’t stop laughing!”
Jenny, her face a mix of horror and humour, passed her a Kit-Kat, “oh my god, really?”
“Yes, really,” she said, taking the chocolate, “and I was petrified that I was going to break wind or something.”
“She wasn’t bothered about farting in front of me, just in front of the crew,” Benn said with uncharacteristic nonchalance, a cheeky grin whipping across his face.
“Benn Williams, I have never been so insulted in all of my life,”
“Well, I’m obviously not trying hard enough.”
“How many things have you two actually been in together now?” Jenny munched on her Kit-Kat. Mr Darcy and Mrs Bennet looked at each other, concentrating.
“Too many!” Mariella announced dramatically. “He is a very good kisser though.”
“I am?”
“Yes,” Jenny agreed, “you really are. My mum is really jealous that I get to fake snog you.”
“I don’t know if that is a compliment or not, but I suppose it means a lot coming from the tantalising Jenny Graves and, of course, the marvellous Mariella.” Benn said, pulling her under his shoulder for hug. “I love the bones of this woman.”
“Aww,” Jenny laughed, a smile teasing her lips. “You two are so cute, I hope I’m this cute when I’m old like you!”
“Hey!” Mariella’s Scottish tones bouncing through, “it’s easy to go off folk!”
“Drinks, ladies?”
He wandered off to the craft table in search of refreshment. Benn had spent the last six weeks at Shepperton throwing himself into sorting out his life. He had joined AA, visiting a small meeting in Ealing each week. He had spent wonderful precious time with Esther and Anya, he had embraced ‘self-care’. He had thought about things, he had played his guitar badly, he had watched films, he had gone for dinners with friends, he had taken his nephew to the zoo. He had done lots of things to fill the gaps in his time, but whenever he saw something he loved, something that made him laugh, a silly article in the paper, all he had wanted to do was message Lizzy, speak to her, share it with her, but he felt he couldn’t, that his urgency, those frantic feelings had burned the bridge and perhaps there was never any going back. So, he filled the gaps in his time, but he couldn’t fill the Lizzy shaped hole in his heart.
Lizzy was partnered with one of the officers, a lovely young whippersnapper called Rhys, who didn’t have any lines, but looked good in a uniform and had spent three weeks learning the dance. He was nervous as the first bars of the song played, but easily found his pace and they bounded through the cotillion with the other three couples in their set. Laughing with Rhys, albeit silently, she noticed that Benn would quickly glance in her direction as he observed the dancing from the outskirts of the room with a glass of Ribena masquerading as port. Even though the music played intermittently, the main noise coming from the room was the soft shuffle and stomp of dancing shoes as they moved across the wooden floor. As they moved into Mr Beveridge’s Maggot, the dance which she had practised so hard with Benn, Lizzy was excited to see how well he had rehearsed.
All standing in position, Rhys and Lizzy found themselves adjacent to Benn and Jenny for the start of the dance. Runners and crew were positioning markers and adjusting lighting, whilst the Steadicam operator would move throughout the dance with the couples as if he was part of it. Lizzy saw Rhys glance at Benn standing next to him, he looked at him with an awe and reverence that she hadn’t seen someone do before, but she imagined that this was, for the newly graduated drama student, of great importance.
He watched her intently. She turned to look at him, giving him that unassuming little smile that he realised still had the same effect on him. His heart gave a tiny stir, started beating a little faster and he was suddenly very aware of the heat rising to his face. As they stepped into the first movement, Lizzy watched as Darcy and Elizabeth stepped together silently, moving together and then apart; then it was her turn to repeat the movement, with a gloved hand she felt his fingers around hers a little tighter than expected.
As they moved apart again and back into the first position, she saw him look at her, his face saying nothing and his eyes saying everything, and it was as if they were having an almost clandestine affair on the set of the movie. She felt something that she knew she could not ignore any longer, and she knew he did too.
SC. 28. NETHERFIELD. BALLROOM. EVENING. INT.
The room is decadently decorated and bursting with life and people. DARCY and ELIZABETH are dancing to Mr Beveridge’s Maggot, we see them pull towards each other and away.
ELIZABETH:
It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy.
(Beat.)
I’ve talked about the dance and now you should make a remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.
DARCY:
And what would you have me say, Miss Elizabeth?
ELIZABETH:
Well perhaps I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.
(Beat.)
Or we could remain silent.
DARCY observes ELIZABETH for a moment as the dance continues. He dances with the other lady in the group, watching ELIZABETH.
DARCY:
Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?
ELIZABETH:
Sometimes.
(Beat.)
One must speak a little, you know.
(Beat.)
It would be odd for us to be entirely silent for half an hour together.
ELIZABETH watches as DARCY dances with the other lady in the group, before she repeats the movement with the gentleman as DARCY observes. This isn’t a dance, this is a duel.
It was the end of the section and everyone braced themselves for the command.
“Cut!”
The shot was over from this angle – the digital technicians immediately jumped on the footage, moving the files from the card and into the edit, syncing and backing up files so none of the precious footage was lost. Henry Gibbons – a stalwart of the British film industry, who was playing Mr Bennet - demanded that they checked the gate, and Matthew led him away gently, trying to explain that this wasn’t needed anymore.
The scene was reset, a break of thirty minutes announced, and there was an immediate rush of people, a regency deluge reaching for bags and phones and cups of tea. Lizzy glanced up at the gilded plasterwork on the ceiling, the three tall columns designed to look like plaster and each containing the trunk of a tree from the estate, and the amazing chandelier in the centre of room – fully illuminated now with real candles and looking, quite accurately, like something out of a Hollywood production, even if there were several panicking HHS staff members hovering about, ensuring that nothing was damaged or accidentally set on fire. She could see Benn standing over by make-up being fussed and attended to by a throng of women, taking a deep breath she took out her phone.
LIZZY: How are the breeches working for you?
She saw him reach into his pocket and then turn around to look for her, but she dodged his gaze and disappeared. There was a reply when she reached the Servants Hall.
BENN: I’m remarkably trim this week, don’t even need my fat pants on.
She barely had time to smile before the phone buzzed again.
BENN: How’s your corset?
LIZZY: Booby
She was aware now that he was over by the craft services table, helping himself to a cupcake because he thought no-one was watching.
BENN: I was going to pretend I hadn’t noticed, but I am red-blooded man.
LIZZY: That’s not very gentlemanly.
BENN: Who said I was a gentleman? Not me!
LIZZY: Are you going to eat ALL of that cake?
B
ENN: It would be rude not to.
She was surprised at how easily they fell back into it. How easy it was to pick up the pieces. He was looking at her from across the room, talking to one of the Bennets, his phone in his hand. She saw him excuse himself from the conversation and start to walk over.
“Elizabeth Darcy,” shrieked a woman in a yellow ballgown, “how on earth are you?”
Immediately she was engaged in an unwanted conversation with a girl called Corrine who she hadn’t seen since school, for very good reasons. She caught his eye as he walked past her, Corrine raising her eyebrows at the close proximity of Mr Darcy, pretending to fan her face.
“Oh, he is dreamy, isn’t he?” Corrine glanced over at Benn, who was pouring himself a coffee. “I was worried when they said he was going to be Darcy, he’s probably a bit too old, but he really scrubs up well.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” she said. “If you will just -”
Lizzy tried to excuse herself, but Corrine was here for the long-haul and there was no escaping this conversation. She stood there being talked at for the next fifteen minutes, as Benn walked around and occasionally shot her a look, paired with a knowing smile. She stood there and nodded politely, engaging in the conversation as much as she could as her phone vibrated in her hand.
BENN: Too old? How rude!
BENN: Do you want me to rescue you?
She caught his eye, a slight nod of the head, a small gesture. He appeared quickly at her side, a knight in shining armour, placing his hand gently on her arm, keeping it there a tiny bit too long. There was that fizz again.
“Lady Elizabeth,” he said in his Darcy voice, “would you do me the great honour of introducing me to your friend?”
Corrine, slightly awestruck, was temporarily silent.
“Mr Williams, of course.” She gestured to Corrine, who looked as if she might burst with excitement. “This is my friend from school, Corrine Hepburn. Corrine, this is Benn Williams.”
“Well, I know who you are, of course!” She trilled away, rather like an early morning alarm, she was equally annoying.
“Would you like to come with me?” He proffered his arm, “it would be a great pleasure to introduce you to some of the cast. Any friend of Lady Darcy’s is a friend of mine.”
Simpering and giggling, Corrine threaded her arm through Benn’s, walking off looking very smug as they went to talk to the Bennets and the Bingleys.
LIZZY: Thank you.
BENN: Anytime.
It was 10pm before filming was completed, amidst the hubbub and the noise of the cast of fifty all being defrocked and dewigged, their costumes and wigs placed in named boxes for the completion of filming tomorrow. Lizzy saw Benn standing at the doorway of the servant’s hall, wrapped up in his North Face jacket and a tartan scarf. She felt a little bubble of happiness burst in her stomach at the sight of his face, he was surprised to see her dressed in her normal clothes and made a quick gesture of his head. Giddy, she jumped up from the make-up chair, wrapped herself up in her coat and walked towards the door. Without drawing attention to it, he shyly slipped his hand into hers and felt her squeeze it gently. Holding on to each other tightly they disappeared into the crowd of people dispersing for the night.
“Are we meant to come in this way?” He asked, as she pushed open the large wooden door and led him into the walled garden.
The south front of the house was in darkness, and he could only make out the lake because of the reflection from the moon. It was cold, and he could see his breath fading into vapour in the still air.
“Well, you’re not meant to come this way,” she said in a low voice.
Her hair had been curled and was still pinned up, although some was curling around her shoulder, disappearing into the Gryffindor scarf that he noticed her wearing before. Funny, he thought, he always had her tagged as a Ravenclaw. He was a Hufflepuff, but he would never admit it.
“Is this the scenic route?”
“It is,” she grinned. “I wanted to say thank you for before.”
“No need to say thank you,” he shrugged. “We all know a Corrine.”
They walked on into the rose garden, on the right the shadows of Pemberley loomed large. It was beautiful at night, she often wished that more people could see it like this, she pulled ahead of him and he found that he stepped more quickly to catch up.
“Where are you racing off to?”
Stopping sharply at the top of the steps that lead down the Lake, she planted herself down, gesturing for him to join her. They sat together in silence. There was still a gentle hum in the background, the noise of the crew packing things up, the HHS staff checking that everything was as it was before, the faint shouts of gaffers demanding that something be put away.
“I missed you,” she said, meaning it entirely. “The more I tried not to think of you, the more I did”
“I’m glad that you did,” he admitted. “It almost makes how much I missed you not feel quite as tragic. You see…”
She felt her breathing feather a little bit, suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart in her chest and suddenly she was utterly terrified of what he was going to say next.
“…what I said, how I felt. That hasn’t changed, but I understand what you meant now about candles.”
“It was never me saying no, Benn,” she reached for his un-gloved hand and he held onto her tightly. “It was me saying, let’s wait.”
“And this is me saying that,” he reached over with his other hand, moved a stray curl from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “This is me saying that I’ll wait until you’re ready... if you want me to.”
“I think I do. I think I would like that very much.”
They grinned at each other in the coldness and the anticipation of what was to come crackled. As she gazed up at him, he realised that he wanted to savour this moment, to enjoy every single second of this, wanted to look at her, shining up at him in the moonlight, the delicate wisp of her eyelash, the rosy flush of her cheek, and the look that she gave him made him feel as if everything was new and the world was to play for.
“Mum!”
There was a shout, a noise in the distance, rattling off the walls of the garden, echoing across the manicured lawn. She looked away, recognising the tone, drawn to the sound, before falling back into the bubble of happiness that she found herself in, until the voice was clearer, louder and she pulled away, her eyes drawn to the oncoming figure in the distance.
“Harriet?”
“Mum!” Harriet’s shout echoed across the empty rose garden. “Why aren’t you answering your phone? They’ve been trying to call you!” She blurted out angrily. “They’ve been trying to call everyone, but none of you were answering the phone! They phoned the estate office, Joyce is going mad! She can’t get hold of Grandad either…” She grabbed hold of her mum, relief and anger shaking out of her.
“Calm down, what’s happened, who has been phoning?”
“The hospital.”
“What? Which hospital? What’s happened? What did they say?”
“They think Imogen took some pills, they don’t know; but no-one was answering the phone and I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Lizzy hugged Harriet tightly, “Mum, you need to go to there now… There needs to be someone there in case she -”
Lizzy looked at Benn, he didn’t know what to do or what to say, but he wrapped his arms around them both before trying to take command of the situation.
“I’ll drive you down there now,” he said quickly. “I have my car.”
“No, you have a film to finish, and you need sleep. Matthew will go mad if this film runs over budget…”
She put her head in her hands, running her fingers through her hair; thinking, concentrating, trying to work out everything in her head. He took her hands, made her focus on him, her eyes frantically searching for some reassurance; she looked terrified and all he wanted to do was hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. B
ut there was no time for that, he had to be practical about it all.
“Lizzy, I’m going to take you. We’ll go now, okay? You’re in no state to drive and there is no way your car will make it to London,” he grabbed her coat.
She started to protest.
“Look,” he said rationally, “I’m not on set until tomorrow afternoon, I have plenty of time to drop you off and get back. It’s London, not the moon. I’ll text Matthew and ask him to come and collect Harriet. You’ll be okay until your dad gets here, won’t you?” Harriet nodded “Okay, Lizzy, listen to me. Go and pack some things in a bag, we don’t know how long you’ll be there, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll go and speak to Joyce, see if she has managed to get hold of your dad.”
“Okay.”
Sometimes it was nice not to have to make decisions. He held her hand tightly in the car as they drove away. Looking forward into the darkness, she focused on the rocket lolly air freshener dancing jovially from the rear-view mirror and tried not to think of what misery lay ahead.
1922
The house was now closed and shuttered, looking as if it was falling asleep and drifting away into history. The family had kept a few rooms open, but with a skeleton staff and a severely reduced income they had make decisions about the future of their country estate. Millicent viewed the family home from her sanctuary in the folly at Lantern Wood. There were tough choices to be made; ones that she would make on behalf of the family, on behalf of all of the Darcys that came before her and those that would follow. She would be judged on this decision forever.
Pemberley was a huge undertaking. It wasn’t simply the house, there were the gardens, and the park, and the tenants, and the farmland. There were hundreds of people who relied on the land to feed their families. The Darcys were no different to the Bramwells, who farmed the north end with rugged sheep in the winter and tiny lambs in the spring, or the Goddards, with their regal Highland cows lording over the rest of the cattle, or even the Wickhams at Paddock Cottage, who drove the deer down from the hills and provided the estate with venison. They all needed this massive behemoth to provide them with a living, the means to make a life, and Millicent was petrified of making the wrong choice.
Becoming Lady Darcy Page 29
